Chapter 11
11
The following morning, Ned greeted me as if I’d been on a six-month trek to the Andes.
‘Hello! Hello!’ I laughed as I patted his side, which led him to flop down and expose his tummy to me, his whole body wiggling from side to side on the polished oak flooring. Crouching beside him, I gave him a thorough tickle as I chatted away quietly.
‘That’s you set for the day.’
‘I can think of worse ways to spend my time,’ I replied to Jesse as I straightened. He was leaning against the door jamb of the kitchen in faded jeans and a white T-shirt, mug in hand, hair damp from the shower and feet bare on the heated floor. There were also worse sights to wake up to.
‘I’m just doing some breakfast. How did you sleep?’ he asked as he stepped back for me to pass into the kitchen.
‘Really well, thanks. I don’t know what magic mattress you have, but I haven’t slept this well in years. How about you?’
‘Not bad, thanks. What would you like for breakfast?’
‘You don’t need to wait on me.’
‘I know. So what would you like?’
I let out a sigh. ‘What are you having?’
‘I reckon scrambled eggs, with mushrooms and avocado.’
‘Then that sounds perfect. Assuming you have enough?’
‘I do.’
‘What can I do to help?’
‘I’m not going to get you to just sit down, am I?’
‘No.’
‘I didn’t think so. OK.’ He placed an avocado on a cutting mat in front of me, together with a knife, and turned away to get the eggs. When he turned back, I was attempting to copy what I’d seen on various reels and videos to prepare the fruit. Turned out it was harder than it looked and none of my cuts around the avocado were matching up with where I started.
‘You all right there?’
‘Do I need a map or something? Why are they going skew-whiff? It’s not supposed to be this difficult.’
‘Show me what you’re doing.’
I picked up the fruit, which by now was beginning to look as if it had picked an unwise fight with a vegetable twice its size, placed the knife in one of the grooves and began sawing.
‘OK, hang on a sec. Try and move round in a smooth action rather than sawing it and keep an eye on roughly where you started. That’s it, but push the knife in a little deeper.’
‘I thought I was doing that but I seem to have gone off-piste.’
‘Don’t worry. There, you’ve met up with the start now.’
‘One of the starts.’
‘Now give it a twist,’ he said, ignoring my despondent tone.
I followed the instructions and to my amazement, the two halves came apart. Admittedly, there were very raggedy edges, but still. I grinned up at Jesse, ridiculously pleased with myself. On a roll now, I placed the concave side down and put the tip of the knife near the stone on the other half.
‘Wait. I think you’re best off doing that with a spoon. Less chance of injury.’
‘It’s almost like you don’t trust me,’ I replied, laying down the knife with an inner sense of relief.
‘Not at all,’ he said as he carefully watched me remove the stone without loss of blood or digits thanks to the bluntness of the utensil.
‘I’ve seen chefs whack the stone with a knife and twist it to remove it.’
‘Yep, that’s an option, although from experience I’ve found that method a bit hit and miss but I’m no expert. I probably don’t have the right technique.’
‘This seems safer anyway.’
‘Certainly good to start with. Do you mind chopping that?’
‘No problem. Any tips for getting the flesh out you can show me or shall I just have a go?’
‘It’s pretty ripe so should just scoop out with that spoon easily. Some people score the flesh but whatever works best for you. I’m guessing none of those three jobs you had at uni were kitchen based?’ he said as we worked alongside one another.
‘How did you know?’ I said, not taking offence. I was the first to admit I couldn’t even boil an egg. Once I’d no longer had access to a private chef, I’d lived on takeaways, ready meals and then, as I’d earned more, restaurants.
* * *
‘That was delicious, thanks,’ I said, placing my knife and fork together on my plate, the linen napkin still resting on my lap.
‘Glad you enjoyed it.’
‘You’re a great cook.’
‘Nah, not really. I’ve just picked bits up as I went along. Had to, really. Before Alice, I mostly lived on beans on toast and takeaways and once I met her, she cooked. And before you say anything, I did offer but she enjoyed it. Cooking was her way of relaxing and her hobby as well as a way to feed herself and anyone else who happened to be in the vicinity.’
‘She sounds lovely.’
‘She was. A generous soul, for sure.’
I gave him a smile, not sure what else to do.
‘Not that she didn’t have the odd paddy,’ Jesse continued with a grin.
‘Nobody can be expected to be a saint.’
‘Very true. But it never lasted long and was usually when she was tired or hungry or just needed to get into the kitchen and destress. Which is what led to my misstep last night with you.’ He had been studying the grain on the tabletop but at this, he gave a brief look up at me through the long, dark lashes.
‘What do you mean?’
He straightened, tipped his head back and blew out a breath as he stared at the ceiling before looking back at me. ‘When Alice got in a huff, I’d let her stomp about for a few minutes, then ask, like I did with you last night, if she was done with her tantrum. That broke the cycle and she’d look at me, burst into laughter and get on with whatever she needed to do to unwind. Partly out of habit and partly because I didn’t know what else to do, I did the same last night, but I realise now that I misread the situation entirely. You were properly upset and, quite rightly, felt my comment was insensitive and uncalled for. Believe me, I feel awful about it now.’
‘You weren’t to know. Let’s face it, we barely know each other.’
‘True. But I reckon there’s a story behind those shoes because, despite your protestations about them just being shoes, the look on your face said they mean a hell of a lot more to you than that and the fact I indirectly sent you climbing the gate, ruining them in the process, truly makes me feel like the biggest shit, if that makes it any better.’
I touched his hand briefly. ‘Of course it doesn’t. The last thing I want is for you to feel bad after everything you’ve done. You weren’t to know I was going to try and scale the gate. To be fair, I didn’t even know myself!’
We exchanged a smile, tentatively building on the fragile ground of understanding.
‘Did they belong to someone special?’
I shook my head. ‘No. I bought them.’
‘But?’
‘But what?’
He fixed me with his ‘don’t try that with me’ look and waited.
‘I bought them when I knew I could finally afford such an extravagance again. I’d set myself a goal of reaching a particular level of disposable income and that, when I did, I was going to buy myself this particular pair of shoes to celebrate. It sounds stupid now when I say it out loud…’
‘No, it doesn’t. Go on.’
I swallowed and looked away for a moment, my attention focused on Ned, who had now finished hoovering up any stray crumbs under the table and was sitting next to me in the hope that either more might miraculously appear or, failing that, he’d get attention. I gave him the latter. It was easier to talk when I was looking into the soft brown eyes of the dog rather than the unusual grey of his owner’s.
‘The shoes were a symbol. Like once I could buy high-end designer labels again without double-checking my bank balance every hour, I’d made it. I’d clawed my way back up to the level I’d been kicked out of years previously. That if I ever ran into any of those I’d been to school with, I would no longer be ashamed, or made to feel ashamed and worthless.’
‘Money doesn’t make people worth more or less, Fliss.’
‘No, I know.’ Automatically, my hand rested on his forearm for a moment and I felt the hairs tickle my palms, the corded muscles move and the warmth of his skin. Just as quickly, I removed it and let it rest on my lap. ‘If I’m honest with you, at one time I did think money defined people because that was what I had been brought up to think. All my friends thought that. It’s just how it was. Obviously, I know differently now.’
‘Are these the same friends who set themselves apart from you when they found out your family was no longer monied?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sounds like you’re better off without their influence.’
‘I completely agree.’ And I meant it. ‘But I needed to prove something to them and to the pupils at the other school. At least, I thought I did.’
‘Or was it more about proving something to yourself?’
‘Quite possibly. I’m sure if I’d ever taken time to go to a therapist, all of this would have come out.’
‘Never tried?’
‘No. Not the done thing in my family.’
‘But you’re able to make your own rules now. And everyone knows bottling things up never works.’
‘That’s true. Otherwise you end up unwittingly buying a project house in the arse end of nowhere.’ I blushed. ‘No offence.’
Jesse wiggled his head. ‘A little taken but we can work on that.’ The skin around his eyes was crinkled at the corners and amusement danced within the bewitching irises.
A ping from his phone broke the moment and he pulled it across the table then lifted it and typed a quick reply. ‘Great. Dermot the surveyor is able to get here by half eight tomorrow morning. That’s quicker than I’d expected.’
‘Let me guess. Someone else that owes you a favour.’
He dismissed the comment, but it was obvious Jesse did a lot for others around here and they were keen to repay what I was beginning to get the impression were a lot of good turns.
‘Which means we have today free.’
‘We? Don’t you have work to do?’
‘I do, and I was serious about what I said last night. We really are in need of a designer to help with a property that’s due to be put on the market.’
‘Won’t your boss want to interview me? I’m not sure he’d appreciate you hiring any old waifs and strays you find.’
‘He trusts my judgement. I can show you the rates and terms we were paying the previous stager, let you see what you think?’
‘If you’re happy working for them it must be fair terms. Your boss trusts your judgement and so do I. I’ve got some photos of places I’ve styled.’ I went to stand up and retrieve my phone from where I’d put it down on the console table back out in the hall when Ned had barrelled over to greet me, but was stopped by Jesse’s hand on mine.
‘I already know you’re going to be great.’
I opened my mouth.
‘And no, this is not a pity job. This is a feel-it’s-right-in-my-gut job.’
‘It’ll be interesting seeing us have to explain that to the boss if he hates what I do.’
‘He won’t.’ The words were definitive and signalled an end to the discussion, at least as far as Jesse was concerned.
‘Then I’d better get ready.’
A smile spread across his face, making me happier than it should have done. That, however, was something I’d unpack another time. Right now, I had a job to do. The thought fired excitement through my veins and I realised how much I’d missed my career and the sense of satisfaction I’d gained from it.